Heartfelt Bloodshed
by RukaStarr
Summary: *DISCONTINUED* Leon's saved the President's daughter and everyone's happy...Umbrella just won't give up, and now there are viral outbreaks everywhere! Multi-pairings. Ashley haters are welcome. Based after RE4.
1. Revolving Carousel

Hello everyone. Black Phoenix KaT here. This is my first RE fic to be posted here. I've written a few hundred or so RE fics that remain hidden within the deep trenches of my room, but I found this one to be a particular favorite. I've stopped writing humor/parody fics, since, as it seems, FF.net no longer finds them worthy to be posted. (As in the case with the SC fic, Adventures of the Seaworthy, I had written, only to be deleted 5 times and counting) I will eventually write them again, if anyone wants me to. Anyway, enough with my note. Now for the disclaimer:  
  
I shall say this only once: I do not own Resident Evil or anything copyrighted that may appear in this fic. They all belong to their respective owners. I do however, own this story, plot, and ideas that give this damned story life. I also own the little Hot Wheels notebook they were written in and the cutie Korean pencil with which they were written.  
  
x-x-x-x  
  
PROLOGUE  
Revolving Carousel  
  
Turn, turn, merry-go-round. Life spun like a carousel; the slow start of birth and childhood, the musical rotation chiming the years of adolescence into adulthood, and the impending stop of the ride led to the grave. Then with a new set of passengers, the ride begins all over again. Indeed, fun.  
But do the perpetually smiling ponies and zebras tell their riders of the carousel's slow and agonizing deterioration? Do they tell the joyful families of the ear-splitting creaks of the rusty hinges and the eternal droning of the carnival music that forever ring through their ears? Do they tell about the painful realization that no one would ever ride on their backs again, even after witnessing the once smiling families become bloodthirsty, cannibalistic horrors feeding upon their own flesh and blood, only to find splattered organs gracing their hooves and lacquered saddles? Who can they tell? Who will sit down and listen as the carousel's creatures share their epic fairy tale of happiness and horror? No one would, because everyone's gone. They're all dead.  
  
So stands the bright, shiny carousel amongst their dead, forced to watch the cinema of undying suffering for an eternity in the dark abyss of despair. And forever, the carousel spins, playing its merry tune which no one could hear.

x-x-x-x


	2. Coen Goes to the Capital

I'd like to thank those who reviewed. If you have questions, please don't refrain from asking. Flames are not permitted, lest you want to see them be doused with my extinguisher of authoressness. And yes, this is a multi-pairings fic. That means that there are a lot of character pairings and so on. The pairings list shall be revealed in later chapters.  
Ashley bashers are welcome. If you don't know who Ashley is, she's the President's daughter from RE4.  
  
x-x-x-x  
  
CHAPTER 1  
Coen Goes to the Capital  
  
_Dear Billy,   
  
I don't know how much longer it'll be until we see each other again, but I just thought I'd send you a few words. I'll be leaving Paris with Chris and Barry and we'll be heading to Washington D.C., where we'll meet up with Leon, Claire, Jill, Carlos, and hopefully a few others. We don't know what task we're being asked to perform, but we do know that Umbrella is involved and that this new mission ruined my perfectly planned European vacation. Well, I'm losing light fast and I've gotta mail this before Barry dumps me into the truck and shoves me into the glovebox._

_ Sincerely,  
Rebecca_

Billy read and re-read Rebecca's letter, dated approximately four days ago, as indicated on the top right-hand corner of her daisy tea party stationery. Peering closely, he focused his attention toward the scribbled words that were crossed out within the sentences. These words he mumbled to himself at first, but then eventually recited aloud as the realization hit him. "Ladeedah 'You're hot' dahdeedoo 'Nice ass' duh daduhhmm 'I love you' hrm…" His eyes trailed down to her closing, where the evident words "Love always" were scratched out with more ink lines than the other omitted words.  
  
Great, he thought to himself. She's already returned her feelings for me in this goddamned letter and I haven't even confessed mine yet. "Go me." Billy scratched his head and raised an eyebrow. Yep, that's love. He re-folded the letter and slipped it back into the stationery's matching envelope, then placed the flowery mail in his overflowing duffel bag.   
With a loud _zip_, Billy sealed his overloaded luggage shut and dragged the bag to the doorway of his little apartment. "Looks like Mr. Billy Coen's gonna take a lil' trip to our nation's capital."  
  
x-x-x-x


	3. Competition for Mr Kennedy

     Again, I thank the reviewers!  But in order for me to dish out more chapters, I'll need more reviews.  Yes, the first few chapters don't really have any gore related scenes, but they get things going; a pillar to a building.  Without it, the building topples down.  I will acknowledge reviewers in the next chapter.  
  
x-x-x-x  
  
CHAPTER 2  
            Competition for Mr. Kennedy  
  
     Claire dove through the muddy tire and landed on her shoulder, rolled down the equally muddy tracks, shot up into her firing position, and whipped out her Beretta.  She aimed at a large wooden cutout of the monster Birkin, its large eye peeling tangerine paint as t was continually rained upon by hot bursts of lead.  The orange chips snowed on the mud-coated earth accompanying the satisfying cracks of Claire's bullets.  
     "Time!" cried Leon as he brought his thumb down hard on the stopwatch's stop button.  He read the blinking numbers on the face of the digital clock as the panting Claire sheathed her weapon and strolled toward him.  
     "What's my time, Leon?" Claire asked, staring at the slightly younger girl attached to Leon's left arm.  
     "Two minutes, thirty point two seconds.  Beat your own record, Redfield.  Hm?" Leon's attention darted toward the young blonde-haired girl still clutching his arm.  "What is it, Ashley?" He asked, trying to ignore her cursed pinching.  
     The girl, Ashley, Claire supposed, was the President's daughter whom Mr. Kennedy was assigned to lay his life for.  "Yes, what seems to be the problem?" Claire inquired, focused on Ashley's pursed lips and sour expression.  Yep, she was a real kicker.  
     "I don't like the smirk you gave her, Leon.  It looked like you gave her…_bedroom eyes_," Ashley replied, topping off her words with a snobbish accent as she snuggled deeper into Leon's arm.  At least the brat was honest, thought Claire.  
     Leon rolled his eyes as if to complain, but no words spilled out as he kept his mouth shut.  Claire raised an eyebrow and looked up at Leon, who seemed to pay more attention to his blinking stopwatch than to the situation at hand.  
     "Well, Mr. Kennedy, Ms. Graham, I'd better get going now.  I've been scheduled to meet a few of Raccoon's survivors from the early outbreak, the event we survived, Leon, later this evening.  Now if you'll excuse me," Claire gave the two a quick nod before turning around and retreating to her apartment complex near the base.  "God, how I hate formalities," grumbled Claire as she trotted away.  
     Ashley giggled and tightened her grip on Leon's arm.  "Come on, Leon, let's get some ice cream," she smiled, spinning on her toes and leading Leon away from the training field.  The latter merely groaned as he allowed Ms. Superiority to drag him to his ebony Jeep.  _She'd better get me a cone…_sulked Leon.  
  
     "Hi Sherry," mumbled Claire as she spun before the mirror.  The surviving Birkin, now almost seventeen, stood in the doorway of Claire's room clutching a Snickers bar.  She watched as Claire fumbled with her reflection, wondering why she had to look her best for a "survivor's meeting."  Was it a date maybe?  If the situation was the latter, then that was reasonable by all means.  "Hi Claire."  
     "What the-?  Sherry, help me zip the back," Claire twisted and turned, beginning to lose trust in the mirror's deceptive ways of throwing her completely off.  Sherry did as she was told, holding up the back of Claire's deep maroon dress and carefully pulling the tab up the spine until it could go no further.  "Thanks, sweetie."  
     "Anytime, but…why are you dressed up like that?  You're just going to discuss the mission and-oh no…It's Kevin, huh?  Or David?"  Sherry smirked, flicking her Snicker bar with her wrist.  
     "Neither.  Just wanna look my best, dear.  You'll stay with Carlos and Jill while I'm gone."  
     "What?!  This can't be happening… Not Carlos!" Sherry burst, accidentally sending her chocolate candy bar confection flying out the window.  
     "What's so wrong about Carlos, Sherry?" asked Claire, who had picked up a small, velvet purse off the top of her bed and fished out a tiny golden case.  She plucked off the cap, twisted the case, and applied the deep cherry shade to her soft, pink lips.  
     "He makes himself look like a total idiot whenever he takes me anywhere!" Sherry imitated Carlos' voice, plus accent, as best she could.  "Hello, you.  Let me buy you a cookie.  Ha-tcha!  Let's go play DDR, I'll show you some of my moves!  Look, Hot Topic!  Let's punk you out, hardcore!  _Nyeeaw nyeeaw weeoooow!_" She did a horrible impression of Carlos trying to be Jimmy Hendrix with an invisible guitar.  "And moreover, he _never_ buys me a cookie!" Sherry looked up at Claire and threw her hands up in defeat.  Claire had given her the "that's-too-bad-just-deal-with-it" look and Sherry couldn't object.  It was either that or being grounded for a month.  She chose Carlos.  
     "Good.  Well, I'm off.  Take care, kiddo." Claire kissed the younger girl's forehead before gliding out the door.  
     "Yeah, I'll need it," Sherry groaned.  This was going to be a long day.  
  
x-x-x-x


	4. Ice Cream Shoppe Burn Up

     Okay, as I promised, acknowledgement.  
  
JoJo10: Thanks for keeping up with this fic!  You make me happy! =]  
Toxin Blackheart: The pencil's still going… Heehee, keep up the awesome fic, m'mkay?  Thanks a lot, Toxin!  
Yot: Yes, Wesky.  Once I finish my Leon plushie, I'll try to get started on a Wesker plushie just for you! Whee!  
Fred: Umm…that's nice.  I like this game too.  But cookie-mix?  Erm…it'll be all rotten and stuff…  
Demon: …THAT'S WHY THIS IS CALLED FANFICTION.  I can do whatever I want as a FAN of the game.  Example, many people have written Carlos as a booty-shaking Latino poppy, Brad is also portrayed as a gay pervert, and even Billy as a drug addict.  I hope that this is making a point to you that it's MY story so I can do whatever I want in it's plotline as it goes, and if I want to make Ashley competition for Leon, I'll do that.  
  
Thank you, now carry on.  
  
x-x-x-x  
  
CHAPTER 3  
            Ice Cream Shoppe Burn Up  
  
     Though protecting the daughter of the nation's capital was the bread of life, Leon S. Kennedy found it to be a major pain in the ass.  When he agreed to the job, he thought that he'd be babysitting a ten-year old or a little bed-wetter who thought of little Jimmy next door and had constant tea parties with Mr. Teddy and Ms. Dolly Pants every day.  Never did the disturbing thought of a 21-year old brat clinging to his body and constantly courting him, slowly destroying his deep relationship with Claire cross his mind.  It was hell, almost as aggravating as trying to escape Raccoon.  
     He watched as Ashley pointed out ice cream flavors, wondering if she'll forget to buy him a cone again.  Leon surveyed the room, raising an eyebrow as he spied a former co-worker with two others, an equally buff, pony-tailed man and a female Japanese student.  His name was Kevin-something, or whatever, he didn't care.  He'd seen him during a quick tour of the station, just to know where everything was before his first official shift the next week.  He's probably a survivor, along with the other two, thought Leon.  But then, who was the red-haired hottie in the knee-high, deep maroon dress sitting down with them?  
     "Huh?" Leon was jerked away from his thoughts, feeling a sharp tug and bug-bite pinch.  "I'm sorry, what was that?"  
     "God, Leon, don't you pay attention?  I was asking you what flavor you wanted." Ashley pouted.  "Every time you see Claire, you're on Cloud Nine!  You don't pay very much attention to me.  Leon?"  
     Every word that had spilled out of Ashley's mouth was "blah-blah" to Leon's ears.  His wandered over to the table of four, focusing on Claire dressed up and sitting next to Kevin.  By the way she looked, Ms. Redfield appeared to be on a date…No, Leon shook the thought off.  Claire was loyal to him, he was sure of it!  They were just the Raccoon survivors, no big deal.  But then, why were all four of them dressed to impress?  
     Leon saw Kevin's arm snake its way around Claire's shoulders, and suddenly he felt his own arm slipping and sneak up to his holstered handgun with the undying urge to open fire at the former RPD officer hitting on _his_ girl.  Luckily, Claire smacked Kevin's hand away.  Yes, she's still mine, smiled Leon.  Love was undying.  Love was everlasting.  Love was true.  Love was-  
     "Leon!"  
     -causing time to melt his ice cream.  Small streams of butter pecan goodness drizzled down a cut-off gloved hand that clutched the crispy waffle cone dearly.  Leon simply stared as the sticky mass sunk lower and lower until they streamed down his fist and dripped onto the counter.  He saw that Ashley was eagerly waiting for the moment when she could lick the ice cream off his hand, but Leon decided to perform the task himself.  
     His warm, pink tongue slowly licked off every part of his hand that screamed "sweetness!"  His favorite flavor danced merrily in his mouth, fully aware that the mere spectacle nearly put Ashley in tears (both of joy and sorrow) and made Claire giggle uncontrollably.  When at last his hand was presumably licked clean, Leon sucked the remnants of his scoop out from the cone and proceeded to consume his sugar waffle, feeling the bits of squishy cone turn to mush by his personal food processor.  Once there was no trace of his frozen delight, he took a napkin and wiped his mouth clean, following that came the counter.  Leon scored a 3-pointer with the napkin ball and proceeded toward the men's bathroom.  Before his hand reached the door handle, he threw over his shoulder, "Mr. Smithey, the ice cream rocked.  As usual." And he disappeared behind the "men's restroom" sign.  
     "That's 'Smith-ey,'" said the cashier with a British accent.  
  
     Kevin knew he recognized the hand-licker, but from where?  Mall, gun shop, adult store, Raccoon or RPD, the possibilities were endless.  All he knew was that ice cream boy looked insanely familiar.  
     "Hehe, Leon.  What will you do next?" snickered the girl beside him.  Her flaming red hair bounced in springy curls as small amounts of laughter erupted from her trembling frame.  
     Leon!  That was it!  He'd read his file in the RPD office the day hell came up from underneath man's feet and fed upon Raccoon's flesh.  That day was supposedly Kennedy's first day on the job; a new graduate fresh out of cop 'cademy to be put under Irons' command.  Poor bastard.  He liked his clean record, though.  
     How did Claire know Leon?  Were they crossed fingers?  Maybe even more?  How the hell should I know, they probably went through hell and back, possibly even lather, rinse, repeat.  God, I suck, he thought.  
     A young, classy blonde stomped toward their table, sour pouts signaling her arrival.  Kevin raised a brow and paused for a moment, trying to remember the familiar face pounding in their direction.  Sexy body, shoulder-length blonde locks, the piercing eyes…the President's daughter?!  
     "Clair Redfield, I presume?" her cool voice asked.  
  
x-x-x-x


	5. Kitty's Got Claws

Whoo…I'm sorry for not updating. If you know me well enough, then you'd realize that I'm dying from the heat packed on me by my other fics. I have yet to update those, too. Again, sorry and thanks for your patience. was also playing Samurai Warriors. Nyan…continues reading Battle Royale novel  
I'm continuing where I left off…since I had just returned from California. And uh…Ah yes…to Demon: Ashley is indeed, a snobby, bratty girl who'll get herself into trouble. Read what the producer of RE4 said. Nyan, continue on.  
  
x-x-x-x  
  
CHAPTER 4  
Kitty's Got Claws  
  
"Claire Redfield I presume?" Ashley asked, raising her head high and keeping a cool stature. How _dare_ the bitch intrude on her outing with Leon? Couldn't she see that she wanted some alone time with her personal bodyguard? On the contrary, Ashley Graham is the daughter of the nation's leader, and anything that Claire would attempt would, and could, be used against her. Yes, political power was such a sweet privilege if used to certain limits.  
  
"Yes. What do you want, Ashley?" was Claire's reply. How dare the wench act as if she didn't know! Ashley could see through her façade, the lies that taunted her so. Oh, she'll pay dearly.  
  
"You know exactly. There's no need to explain."  
  
"No, there isn't. As you can see, I'm simply discussing with these fine folk the future of America's safety, as well as the world's fate. Politics, in a way, I'm sure you understand," sneered the Redfield bitch. Acting innocent, are we? Her sweet, sincere smile made Ashley cringe, but she stood her ground.  
  
"Then why the gam and glam, Redfield? Why the runway model-look tonight?" The perfect comeback. Ashley half expected Claire to point a gun in her face and throw out all sorts of blackmail topics, half expected the wall between her and Leon to crumble at her feet, surrendering Sir Kennedy. To Ashley's surprise, Claire did neither option. Instead, Claire did the unthinkable and just sat there, replying as if Ashley's thoughts were nothing but mere specks of dust on a neglected television set.  
  
"Good first impressions are the way to go, Ashley. Especially among partners and friends, this is an excellent tool of the trade."  
  
"Listen up, Redfield. Leon's mine, and he will be once you're out of the picture. I, Ashley Graham, am _you're_ superior, considering my high status in this country. And nothing, _nothing _will stand in my way of winning Leon's heart!" She can't deny that, for it's the truth! Thought Ashley. Surely Claire can't object to the truth.  
  
"I have nothing but respect for you, but as of late, formalities and superiority of the upper classes are no longer important if you consider the present situation."  
  
"And that would be?"  
  
Claire dropped all formalities in her speech. "Another viral outbreak. Only this time, they're in different locations worldwide. That's all I'll reveal to you." Claire turned away and fiddled with a napkin she'd torn away from Kevin.  
  
"Anoth-" breathed Ashley.  
  
"That's enough, kiddo. Let Claire get acquainted with the others. I'll be going with them, too," said Leon as he snuck up from behind Ashley. The latter just stood in place, gaping at Leon as he had just told her that he'd be leaving her too. Leon looked slightly disappointed with her display, and in a heartbeat, Ashley felt shame and embarrassment pound her down into guilt. "Well, I'll see you later, Claire. Come on, Ashley." He pecked Claire on her cheek and whispered in her ear, "Better check on Sherry."  
  
x-x-x-x  
  
I'm REALLY sorry for the delay! But meh, can you really blame this lazy person? I…guess… Sorry it was short, but it was pretty long and stuff in my notebook…And School starts soon so…yeah…well, jya ne, everyone! I hope you enjoyed this chapter! Next chapter will hopefully be tomorrow or something, if not next week!  
  
Black Phoenix =T.T=


	6. New Generation Fun

Look! I LIVE!!! Haha, all jokes aside. I've been on a block…even though the next three chapters are in my notebook. Well, like I said, school, especially high school, sucks. And I can't really get around being an individual there if everyone starts taking my style! Looks like people will think I'm trying to be popular now that everyone's wearing my fishnet jacket trend…Well, I thank everyone who's been reviewing and everything.  
  
-x-x-x-x-  
  
CHAPTER 5  
New Generation Fun  
  
All Sherry knew was that she'd entered hell once Carlos took her to the arcade. Not even a dignified exorcist could save her from the world of damnation that she was brought down to. It wasn't that she didn't like the arcade, goodness no. The problem was that she'd prefer Carlos somewhere else away from her personal bubble. Carlos would always make a scene trying to impress Jill and fit in with the new generation. Sadly, no one cared for Latino pop sensations anymore.  
  
Sherry shrugged, knowing that Carlos wouldn't give in to reality. There he was, playing DDREXTREME with a young Asian male, presumably seventeen at most, and getting his feet tangled up with the fast beat of the performing song. After the game had ended, Carlos stumbled off the steel stage and limped toward his two "fans."  
  
Jill sighed and smirked as she supported the handicapped Carlos, lifting his left arm over her shoulder and wrapping both her arms around his waist. "Carlos, sweetie…you look dead."  
  
"That song's insane! That Asian kid's been eating his rice," exclaimed Carlos out of breath as he leaned heavily against Jill.  
  
Sherry shook her head, rubbing her temples. She had to sum it up in the best way possible. "Okay, okay. One, he's probably a Gasian-"  
  
"A gay Asian? Now I know!" interrupted Carlos.  
  
"No, you don't know! A 'Gasian' is a term for hardcore Asian gamers who frequent arcades. Now… Two, of course he eats rice. As the saying goes," both Sherry and Jill sighed as they recited this, "'An Asian meal is not a meal without rice.'" Sherry glared at the older woman and both broke into giggles. The blonde continued on. "And three, of course that song's insane. 'Legend of Max' busts out at over three hundred bpm, making it one of the fastest songs in the history of DDR. That's much more than you can handle, Carlos."  
  
Carlos just stood there, feeling more stupid than ever as the word "oh" shone in his eyes. After a period of blank thoughts, his attention wandered over to a large group of racers crowded around a row of screaming machines. "Listen to that turbo!" cried one spectator. "Shit! Look at that Cappuccino drift! No, the hachi-roku! Snow battle downhill Akina!" exclaimed several others.  
  
Before anyone could stop him, Carlos dragged Jill over to the roaring machines and watched as big name Japanese street monsters battled through winding obstacles of different mountain passes. "What's that?" asked Carlos, both he and Jill in awe as young children attacked their opponents and rapidly smacked the stick shift in rhythm with the brake and gas as if they were expert Rally competitors.  
  
"Initial D ver.3. It's mountain pass racing in Japan," replied Sherry as she pulled out her card and stuck an end of the green flap on the machine cabinet. "I drive the Sil-80. I'm not as good as Fritz, but I manage. You'll need an extra dollar if you want a card."  
  
"Cool…let's play!" exclaimed Carlos as he fished two dollars worth of quarters out of his pocket.  
  
"Good Lord no…" groaned Sherry.  
  
-x-x-x-x-  
  
Yes, dear readers, I am Gasian. If you live in my city, you'll most likely see me playing Initial D ver.3, Wangan Maximum Tune, DDREXTREME, and most likely Mr. Driller. Hopefully I'll be able to enter that Initial D tourney next month...ROTARY PRIDE AND MAZDASPEED FOREVAH!!


End file.
